


Ask me no questions (might still tell some lies)

by LittleLynn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Humor, M/M, QuiObi Secret Santa, While You Were Sleeping AU, hypertrain ticket clerk obi, knight qui, non-jedi obi, who tells a few fibs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:33:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28486155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLynn/pseuds/LittleLynn
Summary: After an attack on Knight Vos at the hypertrain station where he works, Obi-Wan tells a lie about being his future bondmate to be able to accompany him to the hospital. Things escalate when Qui-Gon Jinn, Vos' mission partner, shows up.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 14
Kudos: 57
Collections: Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan Discord Server Secret Santa (2020)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyDisdayne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDisdayne/gifts).



> Hope you enjoy dayne! Next few chapters will be along soon, though I'll admit that four is an educated guess. Rating might go up in later chapters, haven't decided yet!

Obi-Wan had almost been a jedi. Well. Perhaps that was stretching the truth somewhat, but he had had aspirations of jedi-hood at least. But aspirations or not, Obi-Wan was still checking tickets at the hypertrain station day in day out. But his day was always brightened when  _ he  _ came in.

His name was Quinlan and he was a jedi knight. He always smiled to everyone - although, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but think,  _ especially _ to him. He was always friendly when he handed over his ticket, asked about Obi-Wan’s day and made him feel like an actual sentient being rather than an automated machine. Perhaps Obi-Wan had set the bar too low after too long in a job like this, but he couldn’t help but anticipate Quinlan passing through, and the little lift it would give him. 

Obi-Wan was smitten. He realised you weren’t supposed to be smitten with people you barely knew, but he was, and this was different, they  _ had _ something. 

Quinlan didn’t always come through when Obi-Wan was working - it wasn’t like jedi had well defined daily schedules that never changed after all - so it was like a special treat when he did. Sometimes Quinlan had people with him; a mission partner, a padawan perhaps - though Obi-Wan was always adamant that none had been a bondmate. He felt he would  _ know _ if that was the case. 

It was moments like this when Obi-Wan realised he was being perhaps a little creepy, and tried to find a slither of sanity to hold on to. He needed to find a way to break the ice with Quinlan, they only ever had time for the barest small talk before the next person in the line was hurrying him along. Obi-Wan knew they had trains to catch but  _ really _ did they have to be so rude?

He was formulating a plan - it wasn’t easy, simply asking Quinlan out to dinner when he collected his next ticket seemed a bit forward. Maybe he could start by convincing him to catch a train when it was less busy at the station. Though how he would do that Obi-Wan had no idea. 

So he had perhaps ten percent of a plan, not nearly enough to put anything into action yet, when the universe - perhaps the force itself - decided to force matters (as far as Obi-Wan was concerned anyway). 

It was a day like any other on Coruscant - grey, dreary, and dull - that was quickly brightened by Quinlan arriving unexpectedly, smiling and asking Obi-Wan if he’d had a haircut (he had, and was embarrassed at how deeply he blushed at Quinlan having noticed) before having to go to hop on his train. Only Quinlan didn’t make it to the train, because just four paces away from the sliding doors, he promptly collapsed. 

Obi-Wan sprung to his feet faster than he had before in his life and - believe it or not - abandoned his station. He dashed over to Qui-Gon and started bossing people around before he had any time to think about it. 

“Don’t worry, you’re going to be fine,” Obi-Wan said, taking Quinlan’s hand and squeezing it; not that Quinlan had any knowledge of this, given that he was unconscious. 

Obi-Wan panicked for a moment when he found the thin silver dart embedded in Quinan’s neck, and kept two fingers carefully on his pulse. Needless to say he was extremely relieved when the ambulance arrived, even more so when they declared that Obi-Wan’s quick action removing the dart had quite possibly saved his life. 

However, that was when the relief ended, and the troubles began. 

“I’m sorry sir, but you can only accompany Knight Vos if you are a family member, and as you are not a jedi…” the paramedic trailed off awkwardly. 

_ Kriff _ . Obi-Wan thought, of course they knew he wasn’t family, but if they weren’t going to let him go with Quinlan, how would he ever find out if he was okay or not? Words were falling out of Obi-Wan’s mouth before he had thought them through. 

“I’m his bondmate,” he blurted. 

There was a moment of silence and pause - which Obi-Wan didn’t appreciate at all because Quinlan was still unconscious and in distress, well, he was putting Obi-Wan in distress at the very least, the man himself actually looked rather peaceful. The only reassurance was the steady rise and fall of his chest. 

But that was beside the point, because everyone had gone rather quiet and were shooting Obi-Wan disbelieving looks, which he resented, because present scenario aside, Obi-Wan had barely lied in his entire life. Some combination of that resentment and his panic over Quinlan had him double down on his outrageous untruth, rather than taking it back immediately, which, while embarrassing was eminently more doable than it would be later. 

“Why are you looking at me like that? Because I’m a ticket clerk? Do you think I’m not good enough for him?” Obi-Wan went on the offensive, which he  _ never  _ did - today was a day full of firsts, it seemed - and narrowed his eyes at the emergency service person, who held their hands up in apology instantly. Which made Obi-Wan feel guilty instantly also. 

“Sorry sir, it was just unexpected,” they replied, making room for Obi-Wan in the ambulance immediately. There were a couple of people looking at him - a few regulars that he saw every day, and he had the most paranoid feeling that they had seen him and Quinlan exchange only the barest of pleasantries in the past and thus had the power to drop him in it. 

Obi-Wan slammed the door of the ambulance and told the paramedics  _ chop chop _ , which was a phrase he had never used before in his life either. 

It escalated from there. Which,  _ obviously _ . But it still managed to come as a surprise to Obi-Wan. Perhaps more surprising was the ease with which the lies were beginning to roll off his tongue. He hadn’t previously thought he had this level of deception in him, and was now slightly disturbed to find that he did. 

First it had been allowed into the ambulance, the paramedic apologising, then there were questions about Quinlan’s diet, whether he was on any medications, if he had any enemies Obi-Wan knew about; ‘classified jedi business’, was how Obi-Wan wormed his way out of that one. 

“Mr Kenobi, do you know if Knight Vos has any allergies?” A medical droid asked and Obi-Wan swore at himself internally, because no, naturally he didn’t have a single clue. 

“Um. I can’t be sure,” he hedged, the droid whirred at him and said they would run a few tests to be on the side of caution. 

Next was being ushered into a waiting room for family as the doctors assessed his condition, then was being mistakenly referred to as Mr Vos by the doctor, a doctor who then gave Obi-Wan a run down of Quinlan’s condition - a run down which Obi-Wan well knew was reserved for family, not random mooning ticket clerks telling large lies. 

He was also asked if Knight Vos was physiologically altered in any way (Obi-Wan had no idea), which subspecies of Kiffar he was (he daren’t guess), what his blood type was (thankfully barely anyone knew their own blood type these days), if he had had any past surgeries they should know about (um….), what his medical directive was (keep him alive at all costs, Obi-Wan decided), and whether or not he was on any medication (another, um). 

Luckily, it seemed most genuine bondmates were so distraught and panicked by this sort of thing, that few managed to give coherent answers anyway.

Finally, they had asked him if he had a contact number for Knight Vos’ appointed next of kin at the temple. Obi-Wan of course, didn't have the foggiest idea what that person was called, let alone be in possession of a contact number for them. And he claimed to have lost his commphone in the commotion. The doctor told him not to worry, that they would inform the temple and the right person would be reached. 

Obi-Wan relaxed, and then realised  _ kriff _ , as soon as they jedi walked in, he was completely rumbled. 

To avoid falling into a panic - not that anyone would have thought anything of it, given that his apparent future  _ bondmate _ had been attacked and was summarily unconscious, condition unknown - Obi-Wan was listening to the sounds of the various medical equipment making its beats and whirs, as if he could somehow distract himself from the wild hammering of his own heart. He knew better than this, he knew better than to get himself into situations like this. He was a sensible, quiet man who never did anything out of the ordinary in his entire life. 

Until today, it seemed. 

As it turned out, Quinlan had been hit by an unknown poison intended to kill, but Obi-Wan had removed the dart before the full dosage could be delivered, rending Quinlan unconscious rather than dead, however, they didn’t know how to revive him, and wouldn’t until they had a better idea of what the poison was. Difficult, as there was not enough of a sample left. It seemed that Quinlan was likely to stay unconscious either until a sample of the poison could be procured and an antidote manufactured, or until his body dispelled it on its own - though the doctor didn’t seem to hopeful about that option. 

It was also mentioned that the jedi might have a technique unknown to them for flushing toxins from the body, which gave Obi-Wan a little comfort, and then reminded him that those same jedi would put him out to pasture (or at least give him a thoroughly embarrassing telling off - as soon as they realised what a big fat liar he was. 

_ Maybe I’ll get a pass for saving his life _ , Obi-Wan wondered to himself in a fit of blind hope. 

It was less than an hour later - which was not nearly long enough for Obi-Wan to work out what in gods name he was going to say to the jedi, they were a supposedly understanding people, he considered coming clean, but then if he ended up not being kept appraised of Quinlan’s condition then there was no point in having come this far - the door to Quinlan’s room opened and a very tall human jedi with long chestnut hair strode into the room. 

He immediately looked at Obi-Wan and narrowed his eyes. 

Obi-Wan gulped and hoped that the stories about jedi being able to read minds weren’t true. 

Obi-Wan was saved from having to instantly make conversation - make lies - when the doctor came in behind the jedi, and started giving him a rundown of QUinlan’s condition. 

“He was lucky, had his bondmate Obi-Wan here not acted so fast, Knight Vos might well be dead,” the doctor said, and Obi-Wan couldn’t help but preen a little.  _ Surely _ hearing that his fast action had saved his fellow jedi would make this new one predisposed towards him. Instead the jedi narrowed his eyes even more suspiciously at Obi-Wan. 

“Quinlan doesn’t have a bondmate,” the jedi said, and Obi-Wan could feel his heart hammering in his throat, the doctor looked confused. 

“Bondmate to be, we haven’t had our ceremony yet,” Obi-Wan cut in, glad that he sounded more confident than he was. The jedi didn’t look amused. 

“I would know, if Quinlan was planned to be bonded,” he said. “Jedi don’t keep secrets,”

“Just because someone doesn’t tell you the ins and outs of their entire life, doesn’t mean that they are keeping secrets,” Obi-Wan replied, pleased with his logic, and then displeased with the fact that he was pleased with one of his lies. 

“Alright, if you’re to be his bondmate, then what’s my name?” He asked, and Obi-Wan rankled, the fact that he was guilty didn’t make the third degree any less annoying. Besides. He’d saved Quinlan’s life, he deserved to get to stay and find out that he was okay. 

Sure, when he woke up he was going to be exposed as a liar, but at this point, he was already in with both feet. 

“He never mentioned you,” Obi-Wan said, casually enough that his words were intended to hurt, to say, yes you see, you are of no consequence. He regretted them immediately, but then didn’t when this jedi didn’t fall for it; bastard. He couldn’t read minds - because if he could Obi-Wan would be out already - so he wasn’t exactly being particularly comforting to Quinlan’s poor traumatised -  _ heroic _ \- bondmate.

Obi-Wan spared a moment to accept that he was being ridiculous. And promised himself that what was going on here was going to be a one time thing. Not that he could imagine any situation where this absurdity even could happen again.

“I’m his mission partner, we practically live together, and you want me to believe that he hasn’t even mentioned me,” he replied, in an accusing tone, those piercing blue eyes trained unshakably on Obi-Wan. He didn’t need the bare affinity for the force that he had to know that this jedi neither liked nor believed him. 

“We don’t talk about work,” Obi-Wan shrugged. 

“Alright then, what are some of his hobbies? What food does he like? What colour is his lightsaber?” The jedi challenged, and Obi-Wan could feel his hackles rising.

“I don’t appreciate the insinuation here. What’s your problem? Do you think that I’m not good enough for him? That he couldn’t possibly want someone like me? Because I’m so beneath the vaunted jedi?” Obi-Wan bit back, and he would admit to himself that he was possibly projecting somewhat. 

“Jedi that wish to have a bondmate are required to have the relationship evaluated, and seek the permission of the council. If you existed, I would know about it. We would all know about you,” he replied, and Obi-Wan, in the heat of the moment, opened his mouth and dug his hole even deeper before he had the forethought to stop himself. 

“We’ve had that, we just wanted to keep it quiet,” Obi-Wan replied, and shortly after thought  _ fuck _ when the other jedi got a smile on his face that could only be described as  _ gotcha _ .

“Well, Master Yoda is on his way, so this will be easy enough to disprove,” he said, folding his arms over his broad chest and standing bodily in the door, so there was no way Obi-Wan could escape. Not that he wanted to. He’d committed to this now. His mother had always raised him to do something all the way if he was going to do it at all. 

His mother had also raised him not to tell lies, but that was besides the point. 

“Why are you so determined to hate me?”

“Because I think that you are a liar. You’re not his bondmate, so for all I know you’re the one who hit him with the dart.”

“ _ Me? _ For force sake I’m the one that took the dart out and gave it to the doctors. I’m the reason he’s even alive.”

“And I’m supposed to take your word for it, when you are so clearly a liar.”

“Listen here, mister high and mighty, I might just be a ticket clerk but that doesn’t mean that I’m not good enough for him.”

“This is not about good enough. You couldn’t answer a single question I asked you about him.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Alright, does he love the taste of vardi or hate it? What’s the significance of the yellow mark across his face? How  _ old _ is he? Do you even know that? Who was his master?”

“Just because I don’t know the question to some trite questions you see fit to ask doesn’t mean I’m not his bondmate.”

“These are things you would  _ know _ , you’re lying, and I intend to find out why.”

“Qui-Gon Jinn!” A stern voice interrupted, as a small green man walked into the room. “Enough, that is.” Despite the chiding tone, the other jedi - Qui-Gon - seemed pleased. 

“Ah, Master Yoda, I’m glad you are here. This man claims to be Quinlan’s bondmate, even claims to have been to your counselling. Can you please expose him as the liar he is so that we can find out what his real motives are,” Qui-Gon said, and Obi-Wan decided that he really, really didn’t like this jedi. Why couldn’t they all be like Quinlan.

Obi-Wan realised he was doubtlessly busted now. But then, the little green man walked a circle around him, eyes narrowed, and Obi-Wan’s scant connection with the force told him that the jedi master was reaching out with his mind. Eventually, Yoda took a step back and tapped his gimmerstick on the hard white floor. 

“Known to me, Obi-Wan Kenobi is,” he said, and Obi-Wan had to work harder than ever before in his life to keep the shock clean off his face. He was most definitely  _ not _ known to the jedi. As a baby, they’d looked at him and said, thanks but no thanks, and that was the extent of his contact with them - apart from Quinlan, that was. And his mother said that had been a togruta anyway, not a small green man. 

“Master Yoda, he is clearly lying,” Qui-Gon said, exasperated. It was Obi-Wan’s turn to look smug, though he quickly schooled his expression when Yoda gave him a disapproving look. Though he was better off than Qui-Gon was, who got a gimmerstick to the foot. 

“Question me, do you? Hmm?” The master demanded, as Qui-Gon shook out his foot and scowled. 

“Of course not master.”

“If known to me Obi-Wan is, I say, then known to me he is.”

“Yes master.”

“Saved Quinlan’s life, he did. Deserves our gratitude, he does.”

“We only have his word on that,” Qui-Gon protested, and received a bash to his shin. 

“Master!” 

“Shares everything with you, Quinlan does not,” Yoda said. “Important, Obi-Wan Kenobi is.” He added, and Obi-Wan was gratified to see Qui-Gon’s certainty falter.

“But something as big as this…” Qui-Gon trailed off. Yoda seemed to ignore him, rubbing his own chin and looking at a datapad a doctor had handed him, presumably on Quinlan’s condition. “Will we move him to the temple healers?” Qui-Gon asked, and Yoda nodded, Obi-Wan felt a renewed surge of panic. 

“Will I still be able to see him there?” He asked, hands pulled together in genuine fret. Qui-Gon watched the movement closely and Yoda looked up from his datapad. 

“Permitted, bondmates are. Made an exception can be, for future ones,” Yoda said. Qui-Gon rankled, but thankfully said nothing. 

“We need to find out who did this. Arrest them and acquire another dose of the poison, so that an antidote can be made. We’ve wasted enough time already,” Qui-Gon said, suddenly all business, and brushing past Obi-Wan like he wasn’t even there. 

“Wait,” Yoda said, and Qui-Gon turned obediently on his heel, but was clearly itching to get out and help his friend. 

“With all due respect master, time is of the essence.”

“Go with you, Obi-Wan will.”

“What?” They both said at exactly the same time, but in distinctly different tones.

“Master, he is a civilian. He doesn’t belong on a potentially dangerous mission,” Qui-Gon protested. The ‘and I neither like nor trust him’ went unsaid, but exceptionally loudly. Obi-Wan glared at him. 

“I don’t have any training, I’m just a ticket clerk. I don’t know what help I could be,” Obi-Wan replied, wringing his hands. 

“Most bondmates would leap at the chance to help revive their beloved,” Qui-Gon challenged, Obi-Wan turned a baleful glare on him this time, quite at the end of his tether with the tall jedi. 

“I am no use to Quinlan if I manage to get myself killed in some foolhardy mission that other people are far more equipped to carry out. I lacked the arrogance to insist I am the best man for the job, when clearly, I am not.”

“Underestimate yourself, you do. Always have, I fear,” Yoda spoke, and Obi-Wan felt somewhat like a mildly scolded school child. He didn’t underestimate himself, he was just  _ realistic _ , was all. “Part to play, I sense Obi-Wan has, go with you, he will.”

“Master - ” 

“Send another jedi instead of you, I will,” Yoda warned, at the beginning of another protest from Qui-Gon, and the other jedi shut his mouth quickly, lips turning into a dissatisfied line. 

Obi-Wan didn’t even have time to wonder why the jedi master had  _ lied _ for him, because he was too busy swearing internally at the thought of having to spend even more time with Qui-Gon Jinn. The last twenty minutes had been more than enough to last him a lifetime. 

“Fine. Come on. We need to get moving,” Qui-Gon said brusquely, barely masking his annoyance - which earned him another thwack from Yoda’s stick - as he strode from the room, and Obi-Wan relaised that Qui-Gon wasn’t going to wait, he had to keep up. He looked down at the jedi master. 

“Why- ” Obi-Wan started, then experience the sensation of a small stick wacking him on the shin with a small but not entirely inconsiderable force. 

“Told no lies, have I,” Yoda said, followed by a mischievous laugh, which managed to assure Obi-Wan that Yoda knew he was entirely full of shit, and was well aware he was no one’s bondmate - Obi-Wan had wondered for a brief moment if the jedi master was just senile, and had mistaken him for someone else. “Go Obi-Wan Kenobi, wait, he will not,” Yoda added.

There was nothing for Obi-Wan to do but chase after his newfound least favourite person in the galaxy; one Qui-Gon Jinn. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is so silly, but I'm enjoying it and I hope you are too <3

Obi-Wan’s opinion of Knight Jinn was not improving. In fact if anything it was getting worse. He had been chasing Qui-Gon over what felt like all of Courscant - which was impressive, as the city was the entire planet - and getting locked out of every room QUi-Gon could get away with locking him out of - Obi-Wan had no idea how many ‘jedi only’ archives there were in the city. He had a feeling the answer was  _ none _ , and Qui-Gon was just being an arse, hoping to make him as uncomfortable as possible. 

Foolish really, Obi-Wan’s comfort didn’t matter one whit, all that mattered was helping Quinlan and keeping that strange green jedi on his side, so that he wasn’t exposed as the biggest, most ridiculous liar on the planet. 

At least on the Quinlan front they were in agreement, even if Qui-Gon seemed to think that removing Obi-Wan from this operation was the best way to help him. 

“If you would tell me what you are looking for, perhaps I could help,” Obi-Wan said in a huff, wishing he had kept himself at a better level of physical fitness as he was forced to chase after Qui-Gon and his freakishly long legs once again - sadly checking tickets didn’t offer much chance to stay active. 

“I doubt you could offer an illumination. Certainly not any I would trust,” Qui-gon replied gruffly. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if it was an improvement or not on the stony silence his words were normally greeted with. 

“I didn’t realise the jedi were this block-headed, or frankly this  _ rude _ ,” Obi-Wan said, using the tone he did with his sister’s kids when they were acting up. Qui-Gon turned another scowl on him. “So much for serene jedi,” Obi-Wan muttered, slightly smug when Qui-Gon ground to a halt. 

“For the last time. I don’t - ”

“Trust me, yes I know, we’ve been over that. Extensively. You think I’m a liar etcetera,” Obi-Wan replied, as boredly as he could muster. “But you’re supposed to trust Yoda, right?” That was certainly the impression he had got in the hospital anyway; by the tightening of Qui-Gon’s brows he was correct. “And he seemed to think I might be able to help, so why don’t you let me  _ help _ .”

“You won’t be able to tell me anything I don’t know,” Qui-Gon stated, but he finally - finally - handed over the dart. 

“It’s a dart,” Obi-Wan said, idiotically. Obviously it was, he’d plucked it out of Quinlan’s neck two days before. 

“Yes, well done,” Qui-Gon replied with far more sarcasm than Obi-Wan felt was befitting a jedi. He swiped for the dart but Obi-Wan managed to evade his grab easily, not noticing the look of surprise on Qui-Gon’s face at Obi-Wan’s quick reflexes. 

“You’re looking for the provenance of it? Where it came from?” Obi-Wan said, turning the tiny thing over in his hand.

“Yes. So unless you’re an expert in illegal darts, I suggest you stay quiet and try to keep up,” Qui-Gon replied, holding out his hand for the dart like an impatient teacher. Obi-Wan didn’t give it back, instead looked up at his blue eyes. And resented that he had to look up to make eye contact. 

“I’m not, but I know someone who is,” Obi-Wan replied, and he basked for a moment in Qui-Gon’s looked of intermingled surprise and annoyance. 

The jedi insisted they went to his two remaining ‘reputable’ sources, but when neither could tell him where the dart came from, he reluctantly gave in, though he gave Obi-Wan a dubious look when they joined the queue outside Dex’s Diner. 

“We can find a faster lunch than this,” he prickled. Obi-Wan ignored him again, waiting in line only a couple more moments before a booming voice greeted him. 

“Obi-Wan Kenobi!” Dex called, pushing his way through his own crowd and using his many arms to pull Obi-Wan into an engulfing hug that he laughed and returned easily. 

“Hello Dex.”

“It’s been too long Obi,  _ too long _ ,” Dex said, pulling Obi-Wan - and by extension Qui-Gon - past the scowling crowd and directly into a booth. “What can I do you for today then, hmm?”

“I was actually hoping you could help me with something,” Obi-Wan said, nudging Qui-Gon to take out the dart. Qui-Gon ignored the nudge, eying Dex suspiciously, because of course he was. “Qui-Gon do you want to help Quinlan or not.” Obi-Wan said, and was glad when Qui-gon finally, wordlessly, took out the dart and placed it on the table between them. 

“Hmm,” Dex said, rubbing his chin with one hand, another one his hip, another examining the dart. “I think my help comes at the price of pie today, you’re getting far too thin Obi. Pie and answers, do we have a deal?”

“Alright,” Obi-Wan replied, unable to help his smile.

“You know where this dart is from then?” Qui-gon asked, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. 

“All in good time master jedi,” Dex waved him off. 

He was gone for a couple of minutes, and on her way past Obi-Wan reached out and steadier the waitress as her wheel caught on a slightly loose tile on the floor. She laughed in that mechanical voice of hers and thanked him. Qui-Gon was giving him a strange look, opening his mouth as if to say something, when Dex sat back down with them, a large plate of pie in front of Obi-Wan. He wasn’t proud to admit it, but he found it funny that Qui-Gon hadn’t got anything. 

“So?” Qui-Gon pressed when Obi-Wan thanked Dex and started tucking in, the besalisk rolling the dart around in his hand. 

“Not a very patient one is he,” Dex said to Obi-Wan, who laughed into his pie as Qui-Gon valiantly suppressed a scowl. “But aye, i’ve seen darts like this before.”

“ _ How _ have you come across darts like this before,” Qui-Gon asked, in a not entirely friendly tone. 

“Now now master jedi, I help my friends, not people who take that tone with me, he cautioned, and Qui-Gon had the good grace to look a little contrite.

“My apologies, I am grateful for your help.”

“This here is a jekka dart. Very rare thing, very...dangerous. You see this here,” he pointed to a tiny triangle shaped module on the side, “honing beacon, this little devil could have been following its target for miles before striking. Makes it hard to know where it really happened. Deadly little mayflies these. I’m assuming the target died?”

“No, I got to him quickly, managed to take it out, but he’s unconscious” Obi-Wan replied, preening under Dex’s proud smile. 

“Of course you did, always been a quick one you, with your mind, on your feet,” Dex nodded. “Now they only make these in two places now, and neither will admit it, mind you. You’ll get’em on Nal Hutta, and Florrum.” Obi-Wan grimaced, neither of those were exactly  _ nice _ destinations. 

“The Hutts will not be easy to deal with,” Qui-Gon scowled, but was pulling a data pad out of his pocket immediately, tapping away at something, likely booking a ship. 

“Might not be the Hutts, no real way to tell. Well, I only know of  _ one _ anyway,” Dex said, more cryptically than was characteristic for him and Obi-Wan watched intently. 

“Well what is it?”

“Hold out your hand Obi,” Dex instructed, and Obi-Wan huffed but did as he was asked, closing his palm around the dart. 

“This isn’t the moment for my silly parlour tricks Dex, this is serious.”

“And how many times have you been wrong? Afford to lose the kind of time going to the wrong planet will net?”

“What are you doing?” Qui-Gon asked, Obi-Wan ignored him. Dex was right, it was a silly thing he could do, he didn’t understand it, never had. But Dex was right, he couldn’t remember the last time he had been wrong. 

He tightened his fist around the dart and closed his eyes. He thought of Nal Hutta, of all the things he knew about that place, and then he thought of Folrrum, and he knew. 

“It’s from Folrrum,” Obi-Wan said, opening his eyes and pointedly not looking at Qui-Gon, who he knew would bluster and protest and probably try to get them to go to Hutta first just out of spite. 

“What?”

“I just get a sense about things sometimes, if I concentrate on them.”

Qui-Gon gave him a dubious look, but he didn’t say anything, and miraculously, he didn’t protest either. Obi-Wan thanked Dex for the food and help, tried to pay and was of course waved off, and he was halfway out of the diner before he noticed that QUi-Gon wasn’t with him, turning back to see one of Dex’s large hands on his bicep, speaking quickly with a stern look on his face. He couldn’t hear what he was saying, and decided he was already bringing enough shame to his mother without eavesdropping on other people’s conversations, and went to wait outside. 

Qui-Gon said nothing when they met back up, and they caught a shuttle back to the jedi temple. They checked on Quinlan’s condition - the same as before - and Qui-Gon requested use of a ship for a journey to Folrrum. Obi-Wan paled when a blaster was passed into his hand as they walked to the closet hanger, he was a ticket clerk! But Qui-Gon told him it wasn’t up for debate. And Obi-Wan had to admit, going to Florrum unarmed was probably a bad idea. 

When they reached the hangar it seemed that their urgent request for a ship had taken it out of someone else’s hands with  _ very _ short notice, and the young man was blustering and complaining, the poor protocol droid assigned to deal with this kind of thing clearly out of his depth. Obi-Wan felt a little bad for taking it, but they needed it more than he did - or rather, Quinlan needed it. 

He placed a hand on the angry man’s shoulder and smiled at him, cast his eyes down apologetically, made him laugh. His friends would accuse him of flirting. They always accused him of flirting his way out of situations like these. Obi-Wan just thought he had a way with people. Either way, the man calmed, eventually even apologised to the droid, and wished them luck on their mission. 

They were taking off and everything was going as planned. Except for the way Qui-Gon was looking at him. No longer like he was an untrustworthy criminal, instead like he was some intricate puzzle it was impossible to unravel. Ridiculous really, Obi-Wan was painfully normal. 

He expected Qui-Gon to spit out whatever it was that had created that expression, but of course the jedi didn’t, and eventually Obi-Wan grew tired of being looked at like a museum exhibit. 

“Do I have something on my face?”

“What?”

“You’ve been giving me a strange look all afternoon.” 

“You’re a jedi,” Qui-Gon stated, entirely out of the blue. Obi-Wan snorted. Loudly. 

“I’m sorry have you hit your head,” Obi-wan deadpanned in return. Qui-Gon didn’t laugh. But then, when did he ever. 

“You have to be.”

“Come off it Qui-Gon.”

“You’ve been using the force all day.”

“Nonsense, I can barely feel it.”

“You mean you don’t  _ know _ ?”

“What I know is that as a baby the jedi looked at me and then gave me quickly back to my mother. I can feel the force a little but nowhere near enough to make the cut, evidently. All it really seems to do is give me a constant feeling that something bad is going to happen.”

“Your reflexes were fast enough to duck out of my grasp - that is not easy to do. You stopped that waitress from falling before she had even begun to topple over. You could sense where the dart was from just by touch and a little concentration. And you used the force to calm that man down. You are using the force, and not just a little of it either.”

“Stop it,” Obi-Wan said, growing quickly irritated as Qui-Gon picked at a scab that Obi-Wan would much rather was left firmly alone. “I can’t use the force, I just know it’s there.”

“Who trained you?” 

“ _ No one _ ,” Obi-Wan replied, feeling frustration starting to run through him, make him hot. He didn’t want Qui-Gon to start laying his deficiencies out in front of him, which could be the only direction this was going. 

“You see, when you talk about Quinlan, I can tell you’re lying. The force tells me that you're lying, but now it insists you aren’t. But you can’t possibly know how to do these things untrained.”

“I have asked you to stop,” Obi-Wan replied tightly, fiddling with the ship's controls and guiding it out of the hangar, setting a course for Folrrum. 

“I don’t see what the problem is,” Qui-Gon replied, expression settling into something more neutral. 

“No. I don’t imagine you would. You are a jedi, you have and will continue to achieve things that most people can only dream of. I was rejected by your order at a young age, I had failed before I even learned how to walk, and it was only a precursor to future failures. I am a ticket clerk, the best I could do for myself was to check hypertrain tickets and daydream about a better life, the life I might have lived if at the tender age of one I had done better, and the jedi looking at me had seen potential, instead of the abject lack of it I clearly possess. You don’t understand because you are a jedi, but I am a ticket clerk, and I would rather not be reminded of my failures constantly,” Obi-Wan replied, his voice more controlled and sharp than he would have liked it, hurting himself with his words more than Qui-Gon. 

What would his mother think? She had tried hard to have him forget the jedi, to think of it as their mistake not his failure, but jedi didn’t make mistakes, and Obi-Wan knew that, and he couldn’t forget; and she knew that. She tried to fill his life with success, and had certainly filled it with love, but he had failed at the flight academy, failed at university, failed at engineering. Each time coming home to a guilty expression on the face of his mother, as if she was the one who needed to do better, not him. 

He tried to shake off the ghost of his mother and his own self pity. She was gone, and wouldn’t be proud of him now, but she had filled his life with love, and there wasn’t anything else Obi-Wan could have asked for. 

He didn’t realise how long the cockpit had been silent until Qui-Gon spoke again. 

“There is no shame in being a ticket clerk,” Qui-Gon said softly, and the sincerity of it winded him. 

The rest of the flight to Folrrum passed in silence and as they neared the planet, Qui-Gon changed into something that screamed ‘scallywag’ instead of ‘jedi knight’, and handed out similar hapdash clothes to Obi-Wan. He eyed them warily, and with a little distaste, but eventually decided it was a small price to pay to try and save Quinlan. 

Quinlan. He felt a little guilty, his thoughts had been swimming with frustration and annoyance at Qui-Gon more than it had with concern for Quinlan. But perhaps that wasn’t surprising - a matter of simple proximity. Besides, Obi-Wan realised with a start, without him they wouldn’t be here. Or at least, wouldn’t be here so fast, he had no doubt the jedi would have got here eventually; Obi-Wan had delusions of relationship, not delusions of grandeur.

Folrrum was exactly what he expected it to be: hot, dry, dusty, and dangerous. All around unpleasant, and its version of tourists were just bandits and thugs lying low between jobs. The inhabitants were more suspicious of a record of employment than they were of a criminal record. 

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Obi-Wan couldn’t help but say, a few minutes after they’d stepped off the ship. Qui-Gon gave him a wry smile; Obi-Wan didn;t know what he was smiling at given that it seemed more likely that the ship would be stripped or parts than still standing when they returned. 

“To be forgiven, in a place like this,” Qui-Gon said, leading the way towards the dock’s cantina - information usually flowed as readily as the drinks in those places. But unfortunately they were also rife with violence and murder. He couldn’t see it amid his new clothes, but Obi-Wan rested safe in the knowledge that a lightsaber was somewhere on Qui-Gon’s person. And they both had a blaster - though Qui-Gon’s was more for appearances than actual use.

It was noisy in the cantina, the music so loud that you needed to shout to be heard in most places, and Obi-Wan resisted the urge to reach out and hold onto the tails of Qui-Gon’s shirt. It was heaving with people, and Obi-Wan felt it would be rather easy to become lost by accident, and then made permanently lost by some unsavoury individual or another.

Qui-Gon bought them both drinks and managed to intimidate a couple out of a corner booth, shoving them both inside of it instead. It was far too intimate considering that Obi-Wan didn’t even  _ like _ Qui-Gon, much less want him pressed up against his side with and arm around his shoulders. He resented that he had to basically press his lips to Qui-Gon’s ear in order to be heard above the din without yelling. 

“Couldn’t you have found something a bit more spacious?” He bit out, feeling crowded in all the ways he’d hated. The one mercy of working on that busy hypertrain station was that he had been safely behind a desk the entire time. 

“Relax Obi-Wan. These seats have the best vantage on the rest of the club,” Qui-Gon replied, and Obi-Wan grumpily tried to shrug off the hand on his shoulder, but there really was nowhere else for it to go without making them sit awkwardly - and therefore draw attention. 

“What are we looking for?” Obi-Wan asked, twice, as Qui-Gon had to tip his ear closer after his first attempt in order to hear. 

“Anything that looks like a weapons or poison deal. We don’t have any contacts here so we need whatever lead we can get,” Qui-Gon replied, seeming to be able to make his voice carry without the indignity of shouting. Bastard. “Thankfully, the people here seem to have no qualms about doing such things out in the open.”

“Why would they,” Obi-Wan grumbled to himself. 

Qui-Gon sat in the booth sipping his drink calmly, looking for all the world like any other smuggler taking a rest in the port, but Obi-Wan felt like he was thrumming, coming apart at the seams with anxiety that was only getting worse the longer he sat here. He didn’t trust the force, didn’t know how to use the force (no matter what Qui-Gon said) - and frankly, even though it was pointless, didn’t  _ like _ the force. But it was screaming at him now, welling up in his chest and throat in a mess of anxious emotion that any jedi would know how to purge;  _ badbadbaddangerdangerdangerrunrunrun _ . 

Obi-Wan swallowed thickly, trying to remember how to breathe, trying to remember the techniques his father had shown his as a boy to get his breathing under control, before he had gone out one day and never come back and  _ now was not the time to think about that _ . His heart was hammering, he was soaking his clothes in sweat and wondered how long he could go without air before Qui-Gon noticed. Qui-Gon was a jedi, if there was any real danger he would have sensed it, Obi-Wan was just being ridiculous, being nervous in a new place and the force was lying to him, it felt like it was always lying to him. 

“Obi-Wan, are you okay?” A concerned voice tried to cut through the drumming in his ears, but it was like Qui-Gon was muffled, on the other side of a screen, not right next to him. His heart was rattling to the staccato beat of the torrent of music coming from the band. Qui-Gon’s large hands were on him, more words were being said but he couldn’t hear them. 

_ DangerdangerDANGER _

Obi-Wan gasped, opening his eyes, his head snapping up just in time to see the dart sailing through the air. The jekka dart, so fast it was nearly invisible, tiny and shooting swift and camouflaged like a sand lizard. Obi-Wan snatched it out of the air before it could prick Qui-Gon’s neck in a move he knew shouldn’t have been possible. But impossible things couldn’t happen. 

He crushed the dart in his hand as it wiggled around trying to take flight and reach its target again. Only realising his mistake when the poison spread out over his hand. He felt dizzy and collapsed back again the wall. 

Qui-Gon was grabbing at him, grabbing at his hand, grabbing at words. He didn’t think jedi were supposed to be frantic. He blacked out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading, I shall try to produce the next update more quickly <3

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the start dayne <3


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